


three's a crowd, four's a party

by bloominsummer



Category: K-pop, SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Anxiety Attacks, Blow Jobs, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Minor Kim Mingyu/Xu Ming Hao | The8, Polyamory, Wen Jun Hui | Jun-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:00:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21768760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloominsummer/pseuds/bloominsummer
Summary: For Wen Junhui, all things love-associated come in threes.
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi, Jeon Wonwoo/Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi/Lee Jihoon | Woozi/Wen Jun Hui | Jun, Jeon Wonwoo/Lee Jihoon | Woozi, Jeon Wonwoo/Wen Jun Hui | Jun, Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi/Lee Jihoon | Woozi, Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi/Wen Jun Hui | Jun, Lee Jihoon | Woozi/Wen Jun Hui | Jun
Comments: 58
Kudos: 461





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i sat down and wrote this in two days and... well, it's very self-indulgent. forgive me.
> 
> [🖤](https://twitter.com/bioominsummer/status/1205742851901902849?s=20)

“Jun,” a familiar set of hands shake him awake. “Junnie, let’s eat.”

Slowly, he moves to sit up on the bed and rubs his eyes tiredly. He looks around when he realises the setting is quite different from his own room's. Ah, that’s right. Last night… he spent it in Wonwoo’s bed. Again. That must be the third time this week and it's still Wednesday.

Soonyoung’s waiting for him patiently by the door, but there are no signs of the other two rascals except for Jihoon’s blue hoodie that’s thrown haphazardly across Wonwoo’s study desk. 

“Where’s…?” Junhui stretches his long arms above his head, joints cracking as he does so.

God, he’s getting _old_. He should find himself a nice girl to settle down with, not fool around every other night like this. His hips are going to give out soon. 

Except settling down means he first needs to stop playing this… game, whatever this is that’s going on between the four of them. And maybe he doesn’t want to, not when it feels this good. 

“Wonwoo’s got a morning class. Jihoon went to work on that project.” 

“Ah, yeah,” Junhui nods. He vaguely remembers Jihoon mentioning it in passing. “The paid one.”

“Of course the paid one,” Soonyoung giggles, way too chipper so early in the morning. It’s Soonyoung’s only character flaw, Junhui thinks, that he’s a morning person and is genuine about being one. “The only things he ever gets up in the morning for are ass and money.”

That much is true. Lee Jihoon will sleep like the dead until the sun is high in the sky unless given proper motivation. Junhui’s learned over the course of the past few months to do it in one particular way, and his method definitely has nothing to do with money because he’s a poor college student.

He gets up from the bed and walks over to Soonyoung. Junhui supposes it’s happiness he feels when he stops to stand in front of the younger and Soonyoung immediately bumps their noses together like it’s the most natural thing in the world. 

Tentatively, Junhui leans down. He’s prepared for the possibility of getting rejected—morning breath and all. 

But, to his pleasant surprise, Soonyoung doesn’t move away. His hands come to rest on Junhui’s hips as he presses forward, tilting his head to the right and slotting their mouths together.

“Mm,” Soonyoung smacks his lips when they part, as if trying to collect Junhui’s remaining taste on his own mouth. “Come, I made pancakes.”

“You raid Wonwoo’s pantry again?”

An adorable frown comes on Soonyoung’s face. “I bought most of his edible groceries, anyway. You know he only buys those instant meals.”

Point taken. 

“Wonwoo’s like a cat,” says Soonyoung as he hands Junhui a plate from the cupboard. 

If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought this is Soonyoung’s place by how familiar he is with where everything is placed. It isn’t, though. Soonyoung lives with Jihoon across town, in a much better neighbourhood. Their place is more humble than this, which is understandable considering rent in that area is a percentage higher. From the times Junhui’s stepped inside the place, he can safely say that it feels more like a home than his apartment. Or Wonwoo’s, when he doesn’t have any visitors. 

When Soonyoung and Jihoon are here… it’s a different case altogether.

“How’s that?” He entertains Soonyoung’s vague statement, earning a sweet smile.

“Acts all high and mighty, but actually wants you to pay all of your attention to him. He pretends to be indifferent, yet he’s the one who cares the most.”

It stings. Junhui initially thought he’d get over it, the fact that he knows less about the others than they do about him and each other. Soonyoung and Jihoon came as a package even before Junhui accidentally found out that Wonwoo is a part of said package. They’ve known each other longer, have had time to get acquainted with each other’s habits and personalities. Junhui is a somewhat new addition to their little group, if he can even call it that. 

He’s still learning, he figures. Not that he needs to. They’re not romantically involved. How would that even _work?_

“Eat up, buttercup.” 

Junhui will definitely miss Soonyoung’s fluffy pancakes when this whole fantasy eventually falls apart on its head.

* * *

Junhui had sex with Wonwoo first. Once. The memory is distant to him now.

The day he moved into the building, he accidentally bumped into Wonwoo in the hallway because the boxes in his hands were stacked so high they had blocked his sight. Wonwoo, God bless his soul, didn’t hesitate before offering him a hand with his stuff. Already about break his back from going up and down the stairs at this point, Junhui saw no harm in accepting the offer. 

Without either one of them planning it, Wonwoo ended up staying the entire day, helping him unpack boxes of his clothes and even assembling his coffee table for him.

Growing up, Junhui’s mom taught him to always repay someone’s kindness threefold. Naturally, this meant he went down on his knees for Wonwoo by the end of the night and gave him the best blowjob he’s ever delivered, if he could say so himself. Wonwoo’s wrecked moans had bounced off the walls of the apartment, filling the air around them until it was hot and suffocating. 

They never talked about it again. 

Wonwoo never brought it up when they see each other on the stairs or on campus. He did, however, invite Junhui over for dinner two weeks after that. Junhui saw a framed picture of him and Soonyoung, next to one of him and Jihoon, next to one of all three of them together, next to one of Wonwoo’s four cats back home.

He remembers feeling like shit for a whole week, so much so that he had avoided Wonwoo like the plague. He had wondered, did he make Wonwoo a cheater? _No_ , he had tried to convince himself. Whilst it was true that he didn’t bother to ask if Wonwoo was available, it wasn’t his fault. Wonwoo could’ve stopped him. 

Then Wonwoo invited him for dinner again. Junhui instinctively almost said no, except he mentioned that his friends, Soonyoung and Jihoon, were also going to be present. His curiosity beat any discomfort he might have felt, so he showed up five minutes early with a bottle of cheap wine in hand. Wonwoo greeted him with a grin.

Junhui spent all night watching the three of them closely. Soonyoung’s eyes shone so brightly whenever they landed on Jihoon’s figure, every now and then his gaze would flick down to his mouth. _We live together,_ Jihoon had said, pretending to be annoyed. 

It clicked for Junhui. 

Wonwoo must have loved them. Either he loved one of them—which one Junhui could not tell—or in a more cruel existence, he loved them both. He was doing a fantastic job not showing how hurt he must be feeling, seeing the person or people he loved sitting across from him, in love with someone else entirely or each other. Junhui stopped feeling sorry for him after that night; he held Wonwoo in high regard instead. 

It must take a lot to be that selfless and kind, not everyone can stand to be Wonwoo. Junhui, for one, would have flipped the entire world upside down if he didn’t get to keep what matters to him the most.

They became good friends after that. All it took was for Junhui to admit he didn’t have that many friends in college despite being in his third year, save for his best friend Minghao whom he went to high school with. Soonyoung adopted him into his group in an instant upon hearing the story.

A group of mismatch they were, but Junhui liked his newfound family very much.

Wonwoo’s doing Art History, Jihoon’s in Music, and Soonyoung’s living his childhood dream in Performing Arts. Junhui, already sticking out like a sore thumb since the beginning, is the token Engineering major in the group. They don’t often cross paths on campus due to their different departments, but somehow Soonyoung makes it a point for them to have lunch together at least once a week. _So that I can make sure you’re all alive_ , he reasoned. No one questioned him.

Hanging out with them more and more often came effortlessly to Junhui, especially Wonwoo who lives right next door. It would be a Friday night and instead of accepting Minghao’s offer to third-wheel him and his boyfriend out for dinner, Junhui would be watching Ghibli movies in Wonwoo’s apartment. A bowl of microwave popcorn on his lap, his favourite flavour that Wonwoo bought especially for him. 

He’d pretend like he didn’t notice Wonwoo’s hand resting on his thigh for the entire duration of the movie. He figured, if Wonwoo wanted to kiss him again, he would do so at his own time. But he didn’t, he never did. When the movie ends, he’d send Junhui off to the foyer, which made absolute sense as he only lives one door down, but perhaps there was always a small part of him that wanted Wonwoo to ask him to stay.

Wonwoo… never did. 

It was limbo for a while. 

One weekend when he was supposed to drive down to his cousins’ in his old beat-up Honda, they called him just as he was about to get on the freeway. Apparently, one of their closest friends got food poisoning from bad seafood and needed someone to take care of them in the hospital. Junhui turned his car around and thought about Wonwoo. He texted him while stopping at a red light, checking if he wanted to eat something. 

No reply.

Junhui bought noodles for two anyway. 

He knocked on Wonwoo’s door softly, but there was no answer. When he found that the door was unlocked, he wasn’t surprised at all, but he made a mental note to scold Wonwoo for not being careful _again_. Looking back, he never got to properly scold the younger for that. 

That was all because, when he placed Wonwoo’s share of noodles on the kitchen table, he heard grunting coming from the bedroom. A pleasurable grunt, he’d learn a few moments too late, that he had simply mistaken as a painful one. 

“What the fuck?” Junhui said after he swung the door open and saw what was happening on the other side. 

Those words were fitting. 

Wonwoo was butt-naked, hovering over Jihoon, mouth connected to the back of Jihoon’s neck. Jihoon, in turn, was balls deep in Soonyoung, who saw Junhui first since he was the one facing the door and promptly _screamed_. Junhui slammed the door close, missing his own nose by an inch and not believing what he’d just saw. Stupidly, his shock left him standing there until Wonwoo put on enough clothes and opened the door again. 

Soonyoung had the decency to bury himself under the covers, but Jihoon, as far as Junhui could remember—which is to say a whole lot because he has some truly vivid memories from that night—just remained there in all his naked glory, back against the headboard.

“Jun,” Wonwoo had said, cautious.

“Who doesn’t lock their door when they’re having a threesome?”

Jihoon snorted. “That’d be Soonyoung.” The perpetrator of the heinous crime uncovered his head and shouted, “Sorry!” at Junhui. "I could've sworn I did!" 

To this day, he still doubts the sincerity of the apology. Soonyoung can be reckless when he wants to be, when his mood suits him.

“Jun,” Wonwoo had said again. 

“When we…” _had sex_ , “were you…” _already with them_? 

“ _No_.” He looked horrified at the suggestion, which was an immediate relief to Junhui. Even if the reason behind his question was selfish, knowing that it was a rather recent development helped clear his conscience, too. 

Wonwoo called out his name for the third time, his tone pleading. “Junnie.”

Junhui couldn't tell exactly what Wonwoo was asking for, but he made a guess it was something in the lines of _fuck off, please_. He moved away from the door to comply with said wish.

“Riiiight. Leaving now.” 

He managed two steps back before Jihoon’s voice cut through the tension once again. “Or you could join us.” Oh, Junhui thought there was no way he had heard that correctly.

Wonwoo turned around to face Jihoon, evidently just as taken aback as Junhui felt at that moment. “He could?”

“Could he?” prompted Soonyoung at the same time, eyes bright for some reason. Junhui wasn't entirely sure who he was asking since his gaze was directed at him and not Jihoon.

“If he wants to,” Jihoon shrugged. 

He shrugged the nonchalant way he always shrugged, like he didn’t care either way. Like Soonyoung was asking him if he wanted to get fried chicken or barbecue for dinner. Like Wonwoo wanted his opinion on which sweater he should wear to class. Like… it was trivial, Junhui’s presence. Either or, life would go on for him.

But Junhui looked at Wonwoo and Soonyoung’s shirt on him, too small around his broad shoulders. Then his gaze moved onto Soonyoung, who was still hiding most of his body parts underneath the blanket. He made his decision easily, lightly.

Junhui swallowed his fear whole and declared, “I do.”

“Okay,” Wonwoo nodded his assent. “Soonyoung?”

“Only if he hurries the hell up. I’m going soft here,” came the answering whine.

So Junhui rushed forward to kiss Wonwoo with an urgency in his action that didn’t exist the first night they had sex. He slipped a hand beneath the waistband of Wonwoo’s boxers, causing Wonwoo to gasp in surprise before he tugged it all the way off.

* * *

Jihoon walks in on him in his room two days after the fifth occurrence of, well, Junhui calls it group sex at this point. Junhui’s curled into a foetal position on the floor, staring blankly at nothing.

“Junhui?” 

Junhui opens his mouth to reply, but nothing manages to come out of him.

“Hey,” Jihoon crouches in front of him, panic flaring in his eyes at the sight in front of him. “Your lips are blue. Are you having trouble breathing?”

He doesn’t know. He doesn’t feel like he’s been breathing at all. It’s been an hour since he’s gotten text messages from one of his group mates, informing him that their design project fell off the carriage during transport and has unfortunately shattered all over the place, most of the components deemed unrecoverable. 

Their demonstration is tomorrow. 

_Try not to freak out, Jun_ , the text said. Useless fucking piece of advice.

“What’s wrong?” asks Jihoon.

Junhui just points at his phone across the floor weakly. With his quick understanding, Jihoon crawls to retrieve it and then returns to Junhui’s side. He skims through the texts and Junhui watches the agitation builds up inside him. The vein bulges on his temple, the one that shows up whenever he’s frustrated with his music. 

He thinks Jihoon will start swearing anytime now, but the younger proves him wrong.

“Okay, calm down,” Jihoon tells him, placing a tentative hand on his arm. Junhui wants to cry. If he knew how to calm down he would have done so already. “It’s 4 o’clock now. There’s still time before shops around the city close, I’ll take you to find the materials you need to repair it.”

A hand, so gentle and careful, tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. “Junhui, please breathe.” 

Jihoon’s the only one who calls him that. Wonwoo and Soonyoung call him Jun or Junnie when they’re feeling more affectionate, but with Jihoon it’s constantly _Junhui_ , nothing else. He used to hate introducing himself to people using that name when he first moved to Seoul. Anyone could tell right off the bat that it’s not a local name, which just made him feel more out of place than he already did. 

It reminded him that he didn’t belong here.

But that name, _his_ name, rolling off of Jihoon’s tongue? There’s no better sound in the universe.

Junhui takes Jihoon’s hand in his and brings it to his mouth, pressing his lips against Jihoon’s knuckles as he tries hard to remember how his lungs work. 

This is entirely stupid, having a meltdown in front of one of your fuck buddies. Who does that, truly? Just his rotten luck, he guesses. Jihoon doesn’t say anything for some time, but Junhui feels his other hand coming up to massage his shoulder, slowly uncoiling the tension in Junhui’s muscles.

Another five minutes pass, then Junhui gets up from the floor and walks over to the door without saying a word. He leans down to put his shoes on and Jihoon’s suddenly next to him again, a guiding hand on his hip. Junhui doesn’t feel put together, but with Jihoon next to him he’s not falling apart, and for the meantime that will have to do. 

He climbs down the stairs and wordlessly gets into Jihoon’s car, parked in its usual spot. Their entire trip is spent in silence, Junhui only puts in the address of the nearest raw materials depot he knows into Google Maps and crosses his fingers that it’s not closed. 

When they get there, the staff is just about to lock the doors. Junhui feels his knees weaken, but Jihoon marches toward the entrance as quickly as he can. Naturally, Jihoon gets into an argument with the girl who’s trying to close the door on him, mouth moving so fast Junhui can’t really tell what he’s saying from afar. The girl sighs, shakes her head, then _opens the door_. Jihoon turns to him and waves his hand frantically, urging Junhui to hurry up and come.

Junhui runs. 

They divide and conquer the shopping since the girl told them she’d only give them fifteen minutes. When Junhui finds Jihoon at the counter after having their names called out through the PA system, the other man’s cheeks are flushed from exertion, sweat trickling down the side of his face. 

He expects Jihoon to cuss him out for putting him through this even though it isn’t his business to start with, but the moment Jihoon sees him, he smiles. Smiles not only with his mouth, but also with his eyes. Junhui pretends to wipe the sweat off his forehead, afraid that continuing to stare at Jihoon will result in him actually crying this time.

He thanks the girl excessively until she tells him it’s okay and actually looks like she means it. She keeps glancing at Jihoon while scanning the items in their cart, but the glances aren’t by any means unkind, so whatever Jihoon said to her must have been acceptable. 

“Thank you,” says Junhui once Jihoon’s parked in front of the engineering workshop building. He hopes he manages to convey his gratitude to Jihoon. Not just for driving him around, but for calming him down. If it weren’t for him, Junhui might be bawling his eyes out in the darkness of his apartment right now.

“What do you mean, _thank you_?” Jihoon unbuckles his seatbelt and turns off the car’s engine. “I’m coming with you.”

“For what?”

He swings his door open and hops out of the car. “Tell me what you need me to do, I’ll help.”

“What? No,” Junhui shakes his head in refusal. “Go home, you’ll be late for dinner.” _Soonyoung’s going to be sad if he has to eat alone_ , he thinks to himself.

Jihoon doesn’t make any moves that indicate he’s going to take Junhui’s suggestion. Instead, he walks toward the back of his car and pops his trunk open, starts to get all the metal plates out. Junhui rushes to follow him and take the boxes from his hand.

The younger stares up at him, relentless. “How long are you planning on staying to build the… whatever thing that is?”

“Cooling tower,” he replies automatically. “And probably until the sun rises.”

“How long is it going to take if you have an extra pair of hands that knows the basics of using power tools?”

Junhui raises his eyebrows. Jihoon sighs tiredly before he explains, “Dear old dad thought making me take up carpentry would erase the _I’m attracted to boys_ aspect of my personality, so now I’m well-acquainted with angle grinders.”

Oh. He’s not quite sure what to do with that information. That’s… a bit personal. More personal than Jihoon’s ever willing to share with him up to this point, despite the fact that Junhui warms his bed more often than not. 

“I’m sorry, Ji.”

“Don’t be,” Jihoon turns his attention back to the trunks, scooping into his arms as many PVC pipes as humanly possible. “I made him a wooden dildo the first chance I got.”

Junhui chokes. _Of course_. 

“So, how long?”

He decides to be honest with Jihoon, feeling like he owes him at least that much after all of Jihoon’s help today. “Until the sun rises minus five minutes is my best guess.”

Jihoon gives him a gentle smile. He gives those out a lot and freely today, which is exceptionally strange for Junhui. “That five minutes reduction is worth it. I’ll stay.”

It’s too late for Junhui to say anything because Jihoon’s seemingly made up his mind. He closes the trunk with an elbow and walks toward the entrance of the building, light voice calling out Junhui’s name to get him to follow.

They ended up finishing at 4.30 in the morning. The design wasn’t finished all the way through, but Junhui’s group members came and took the second shift, thanking Junhui up and down for managing the crisis. Junhui told them it’s all Jihoon because it was. As confused as they all were, they thanked Jihoon anyway. 

It’s okay. Junhui doesn’t need them to understand. As long as he does, that is enough.

Now they’re eating greasy burgers with double patties, equally greasy fries, and milkshakes. Vanilla for Jihoon, chocolate for Junhui. Junhui finishes his burger first, balls up his wrapper and dumps it inside the paper bag before he turns to Jihoon, who’s still halfway through his meal. 

“Hey, really, thanks.” 

“You paid for the food,” Jihoon chews as he speaks, bits of his burger flying toward Junhui who just dodges the debris professionally.

“I mean for sticking around. You didn’t have to.”

Jihoon grins mischievously. “”s not for free, dickhead. You owe me one.” There’s a piece of meat stuck in between his two front teeth. Junhui, however, is too far gone to care.

“Sure.”

“That was too easy,” Jihoon notes, his interest piqued. “I should’ve said you owe me five.”

Junhui smiles. “Sure,” he says again. He means it.

“If I ask you to suck me off right here, right now, would you still say _sure_?”

Okay, that’s more like the Jihoon he’s grown comfortable around. Ass and money, isn’t that what Soonyoung said? So far, Soonyoung’s never been wrong when it comes to all things Jihoon related. 

Junhui considers the offer presented to him, weighs the pros and cons carefully. Pros: it’ll make Jihoon happy if he gets to come, which he undoubtedly will if Junhui has a say in it. A happy Jihoon equals a happy Junhui. Cons: they might get caught and thrown in jail for public indecency. Also, the car is way too small for them to find a comfortable position for any kind of sexual activity.

He makes up his mind, and it’s easy. Way too easy. 

“I’ll ride you here if you have a condom and lube on you.”

“Fuck,” Jihoon swears. It becomes clear to Junhui that he doesn’t have any supplies on him. “Do you think someone inside might?”

Seeing Jihoon seriously considering walking into a fast-food joint and asking for condoms and lube is a hilarious scene, but Junhui wants to spare him the embarrassment.

“Jeez, eager much? Just crash at my place. I’m sure I’ve got a stash somewhere.”

“I think you just want me to drive you home,” Jihoon snickers.

“And I think my ass is definitely worth the gas money.”

Jihoon waves his hand around dismissively and Junhui can’t help but feel slightly disappointed knowing that a rejection is coming. “I’ll take you up on the crashing offer, but we should save the fun parts for later. You still have that demonstration later today. Lee Jr. can wait.”

“I feel repulsed that I’m sleeping with a guy who refers to his dick as Lee Jr.”

“You should feel lucky I’m fucking you,” Jihoon retorts, taking a big bite out of his burger. "You’re not half as cute as you think you are.”

It shouldn’t be this appealing, watching Jihoon talk with his mouth full. Especially knowing exactly what that mouth can do when Jihoon puts his mind to it.

“You know what would make me feel lucky? If _I_ get to fuck _you_.” 

The burger slips from Jihoon’s hand and falls into his lap with a sad _plop_. Jihoon picks it up with the wrapper and puts in inside the paper bag before he stares blankly ahead at the empty parking lot. 

“Or not…?” Junhui attempts to rectify. 

Some people have preferences that they’d like to stick to no matter what—Jihoon might be one of those people.

But the younger just tilts his head back, leaning it against the padding of the headrest. “I’d love that,” his answer is as quiet as the night wind blowing outside, “but I need more control than being on the receiving end can give me.”

That’s the second time tonight Jihoon’s offered him information Junhui thought he’ll never get close to hearing in this lifetime.

“I’ve never felt I lack control when you fuck me, you know that right? I always know you’ll stop when I want you to.” 

He feels so vulnerable, putting his candid thoughts out in the open like this without a filter. Then again, Jihoon must be feeling the same. 

“Same goes for me. If there’s anything you don’t like, then… that’s it. No questions asked.”

“I know.” Jihoon sighs. “But you can’t stop when I _think_ I want you to.”

Junhui blinks. That sure was a weird way of putting it, but he can infer what Jihoon means by that. “Of course I can.” 

Even in the dark, he can see Jihoon rolling his eyes. Perhaps he thinks Junhui’s just saying that for the sake of having an argument, but Junhui isn’t. “No, you can’t.”

“Yes, I can,” he insists stubbornly, reaching across the console to rest his hand on Jihoon’s thigh. “When we have sex, you tend to bite your bottom lip when you’re feeling it.”

He rubs circles onto Jihoon’s muscles with his thumb, the tension slowly dissipating out of Jihoon under his touch. 

“Specifically, the right corner,” Junhui carefully continues when Jihoon remains silent. He lifts his finger to tap at said corner, feeling Jihoon's mouth curve upward.

“But when you’re writing music, or Wonwoo unintentionally say something we both know might result in a stupid fight with Soonyoung, or Soonyoung goes into his own headspace as you’re pounding into him, you bite your lower lip at the middle section.” 

Jihoon doesn’t say anything, but he turns his face to Junhui. The only lighting they have right now is the moonlight and a faint yellow glow of a street lamp five meters away, but Jihoon’s skin glows with the illumination and he looks truly ethereal. There’s no better word for it. 

His gaze, sharp as a knife, is fixed on Junhui.

“It’s your tell that you’re thinking or you’re uncomfortable. Maybe thinking… makes you uncomfortable?”

He laughs a little, hoping to diffuse the tension, but Jihoon just continues to stare at him without saying a word.

“Anyway, I can. I know you probably think the most important communication form is verbal,” he can hear Jihoon snort and chooses to ignore it, “you’re a lyricist after all, but there are other means of understanding people.”

Junhui feels the heaviest part of the conversation leaving them. Eventually, the moment passes, and he hears Jihoon speak again.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Don’t, if it weighs on you. I like what we’re doing right now. Your dick game? 10 out of 10. Would recommend to an associate.”

That might be the first dishonest thing that came out of Junhui the entire night. He probably won’t ever recommend being fucked by Jihoon to an associate, because that would mean sharing Jihoon with people who aren’t Soonyoung and Wonwoo. Junhui has made the conscious decision that he, in fact, doesn’t want that.

If Jihoon catches on to his dishonesty, he doesn’t let on. He just slaps the side of Junhui’s neck playfully, then pushes the key into the ignition.

* * *

“Gē, I hope you know what you’re doing.” Minghao eyes him worriedly as he says this and Junhui stops mid-motion, stares carefully at the equipment in front of him.

“What? I just need to switch these two inlets to change the flow configuration, then we can run the efficiency test again.” 

He knows the content of the lab manual like the back of his hand, so he shouldn’t be messing up the easiest part of the experiment. Minghao has no reason to be concerned, Junhui’s got this covered.

But his junior lets out a frustrated sigh. “Not that,” he says, quiet. “This.” He lifts up his hand, catching Junhui by surprise when he presses at a particular point on the base of his neck and it results in pain shooting up his head.

“What the fuck?”

“The hickey.”

Shit. Junhui was in such a rush this morning, he didn’t even have time to check. He vaguely recalls… Soonyoung? It’s probably Soonyoung. Soonyoung attacking his neck like he’s a vampire who hasn’t fed in hundreds of years and Junhui’s the first blood source he’s encountered. Or maybe it was Jihoon. That one sure likes to bite and mark his territory like the raging beast he is in and out of bed. 

Oh no. Junhui’s pants just grew a little bit tighter in a particular area. 

“You’re still doing it with them?”

He pointedly ignores Minghao and detaches one of the inlet connections. It’s believable enough that he’s putting most of his concentration into it since the plastic fittings are feeble and can break off easily. It’ll take him another hour to put on new fittings, which is why Minghao lets him do his job without further nagging. He waits until Junhui’s done before he resumes his interrogation. 

“So?”

“So, what?”

“Are you? Still?” Minghao crosses his arms, an indication that he disapproves of Junhui’s rather evident answer of _yes_.

“I am.”

“Okay.”

“It’s just sex,” Junhui tells him for what must be the thousandth time since Minghao found out about his special arrangement with his apartment neighbour and said neighbour’s boyfriends. “Let me know if you and Mingyu are interested in joining,” he says in an attempt to lighten up the atmosphere. “I’m sure I can convince Wonwoo, he’s always had a thing for tall guys.”

Minghao laughs off the offer like it’s a ridiculous suggestion. To be fair, if someone told Junhui three months ago he’d be partaking in a foursome regularly with a rather attractive group of men, he’d order more drinks for himself and the other person. Yet, here he is. In that very same situation he’d just describe as impossible.

“Don’t you already have so much going on with four people? You want to add two more into the mix?”

He doesn’t know how to feel when he finds that the answer to those questions is yes and no, respectively.

* * *

“What was that?” 

Junhui’s sitting on the floor, crying. He’s crying so hard to the point that Soonyoung’s just a blur of bright hair and white shirt. Maybe it’s his karma for wanting to fake it in the first place to get on the younger’s good graces. But he’s truly moved by the performance he’d just witnessed, his tears are flowing out of him uncontrollably. 

“Oh, shit,” Soonyoung says from some distance in front of him, panicked. “It was that horrible? I’m sorry.”

He hears Soonyoung approaching, hears him going down on his knees then so that their eyes are on the same level. Warm fingers wipe the wetness away from his cheeks, but the tears just keep coming. When Soonyoung asked him to watch the routine for his upcoming competition, Junhui expected to be blown away by the raw talent Soonyoung has contained in his lithe body. He expected… a jaw-dropping moment, one he’d clap on for until his palms sting.

He didn’t expect Soonyoung to put on a ballad and proceeded to personify the words of the song through his movements. It was like watching a story being told in chapters and by the conclusion Junhui was reduced to a bumbling mess. 

“Horrible? That was amazing,” he voice cracks at the last syllable. How embarrassing. “Soonyoung, you are _amazing_.”

“Really?”

The tone of his voice is one of wonderment, like he wants to believe what Junhui is saying but finds it difficult to do so. Junhui sniffs and wipes his nose on his sleeve, determined to carry on his duties to make sure Soonyoung knows how all of those hours he put into practising has paid off for him. 

“It’s beautiful. I didn’t know human beings can move like that.”

“Okay, okay.” The laugh Soonyoung lets out almost makes him cry all over again. “You’re going to give me a big ego.”

“You should show Jihoon and Wonwoo.” Junhui can make out most of Soonyoung’s features clearly now. When he looks up at him, there’s something undecipherable in Soonyoung’s expression, making him realise the mistake he’s made. “Oh, uh, unless you already have?” 

“No, I haven’t. They’ve been the first audience to my routines for some time, now. I wanted you to be the first this time.”

“I… thank you.” What else is there to say? “That was an honour.”

Soonyoung swoops in to kiss him right on the nose. “God, you’re so pretty when you cry.” He pulls away from Junhui, but they’re still close enough for him to feel Soonyoung’s breaths flutter against his face. 

“I’m pretty always,” says Junhui, avoiding to look Soonyoung in the eyes. He’s afraid Soonyoung will find something there that he doesn’t want him to know. “Don’t take this as an incentive to make me cry often.”

He’s joking, of course, anyone can tell easily. It’s an attempt to lighten up the mood and all since he’s the one who made it way too serious by crying. 

But.

Soonyoung’s answer carries through the small space between them like a solemn vow. “No, I don’t think I want that.”

Overwhelmed, Junhui leans back until he’s lying flat on the polished wooden floor of the practice studio, Soonyoung following his movement to rest his head on Junhui’s chest. He plays with Soonyoung’s hair absentmindedly until the tears stop flowing out of him.

“Is Jihoon coming to pick you up later?”

Slender fingers tap on his sternum. One, two, three, then Soonyoung’s palm smooths over the plane of his chest. “Yeah, he’s coming to pick us up.” _Us_. “I kinda want samgyeopsal.”

His mind plays that one word on a loop. _Us_. Over and over again, until— “Junnie?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want something else instead? We can eat whatever you’re in the mood for, I’m not picky.”

Junhui buries his face on the top of Soonyoung’s head, his subsequent words muffled by his mop of orange locks. “No, no. Samgyeopsal sounds perfect.”

At that, Soonyoung tilts his face up at him and stares. Stares at Junhui’s mouth, stares at the bridge of his nose, stares into his eyes. Junhui knows he looks as unattractive as he could possibly be: eyes puffy and nose bright red, but Soonyoung’s gaze on him makes him feel like he’s a work of art, lost for some odd number of years before finally being rediscovered.

Soonyoung moves, then, so abruptly, and gets back on his feet. “Will you dance with me?” 

“I don’t think I can do what you just did, Soonyoungie.” 

Junhui’s not a bad dancer by any means, but compared to Soonyoung he’s basically dust. Still, he takes Soonyoung’s extended hand and gets up anyway. He’s willing to try and fail miserably at it if it means putting a smile on Soonyoung’s face.

Soonyoung fiddles with his phone for a bit and chooses a song out of his playlist. The first few notes hit Junhui’s ears before Soonyoung’s circling his arms around his neck, Junhui’s own hands coming up to rest on the younger’s hip as they move in accordance to the beat.

They’re almost at the chorus when Junhui realises they’re not dancing as much as they’re swaying together. “We’re slow-dancing,” Junhui notes dumbly. 

“We are.”

“Why?”

“I look at you and I want to,” answers Soonyoung. Honest, because that’s the kind of person he is. “Should we stop?”

Echoing Soonyoung’s words to him not too long ago, Junhui says, “No, I don’t think I want that.”

When they drop Junhui off at his building, Soonyoung and Jihoon wait until he goes inside before Jihoon drives off, just like they always do. Junhui turns around to wave at them before he closes the door behind him, just like he always does.

The difference is, this time, Soonyoung shouts out, “Junnie!” without a clear reason.

“What?” Junhui returns in a much more controlled volume. He doesn’t want to get yet another noise complaint—Wonwoo gets enough of those whenever Jihoon and Soonyoung decide to come over.

“Don’t forget to submit your lab report!” 

Junhui can’t do anything but give him a thumbs up, baffled that Soonyoung’s somehow managed to remember that. Satisfied, Soonyoung waves at him enthusiastically as Jihoon rolls up the window on Soonyoung’s side. It might be Junhui’s imagination playing tricks on him, but he thinks he sees Jihoon’s smiling faintly as he turns the steering wheel around and drives away.

* * *

“I’m going to come,” Junhui warns him. Wonwoo just hums around his dick, the vibration from which only helps bring Junhui closer to the edge. 

He sees the light at the end of the tunnel; a somewhat literal application of the saying, as the sun’s just rising and the first rays of sunlight finally penetrate through Wonwoo’s blinds. Junhui’s grip on Wonwoo’s dark locks tightens when the younger takes him as deep into his mouth as he can, tongue trailing on the underside of Junhui’s dick as he returns to abusing the head of his cock.

“Wonwoo, I’m _seriously_ going to come. Pull away if you don’t—” but Wonwoo just sucks harder, more fervent. Frantic, even. The ability to come up with full, coherent sentences fly out of Junhui in an instant.

Despite it being early in the morning, Junhui sees stars with Wonwoo’s subsequent lick over his slit. And when he says stars, he doesn’t mean one single pretty constellation, he means the entire Milky Way. Wonwoo’s cold fingers fly up to graze across his balls and Junhui, already oversensitive from the oral stimulation, comes with a shudder. His fingers still tangled in Wonwoo’s hair, the younger’s name spilling out of his mouth like an open secret. 

Wonwoo continues to kiss down his shaft as he waits for Junhui to return to Earth. There’s nothing sexual about the ministrations anymore, they’re just… sweet. Soothing. Makes it seem like Wonwoo’s worshipping his cock for some reason, though Junhui should really be worshipping Wonwoo's mouth instead. 

Eventually, he comes down from his high and stares down at Wonwoo, who’s still lying flat on his stomach, fingers now tapping Junhui’s bare thighs absentmindedly. 

“Was I good?” asks Wonwoo through veiled lashes. He almost looks shy, but Junhui knows better than that.

He notes at during times like these, Wonwoo doesn’t ask, _was it good?_ or _do you feel good?_ It’s almost always, _how did I do?_ or _was I everything you dreamed of, junnie?_ Or, in this morning’s case, _was I good?_ These questions are always rhetorical anyway, Junhui has never come as hard with anyone else as he does with Wonwoo—except maybe the first time he stumbled into Wonwoo’s bed while Jihoon and Soonyoung were also in it—so they both know Wonwoo just wants to hear certain things in particular.

God, he’s so fucking gorgeous like this. Open and vulnerable, wanting to know how he’s performed, unabashedly asking for praises. Which he very well deserves, 100% of the time.

In lieu of giving Wonwoo a proper answer, Junhui just hauls him up the bed by his upper arms until Wonwoo’s straddling his thighs. From the looks of it, the other man’s only half-hard, and Junhui confirms this when he wraps a hand around Wonwoo’s arguably most beautiful asset second only to his mind. He uses his thumb to smear the precum leaking from the tip down to the sides, improving the lubrication aspect of the situation. 

Wonwoo moans, hips involuntarily bucking forward in response.

“The best,” Junhui offers him honestly. “The very best.”

He surges up to kiss Wonwoo softly on the lips, while his hand continues its work. Junhui wonders for a split second where his insatiable hunger had gone—why it’s been replaced by another feeling that’s much inherently sweeter. Then Wonwoo presses forward, making Junhui feel the full force of his erection against his stomach, and all thoughts fly out of his mind once again.

“Ah shit, I forgot to charge my phone,” Junhui groans. “Have you seen it?”

“Hm? I charged it for you last night,” Wonwoo says, appearing from the bathroom and pointing at the power station under his study desk. Junhui follows the direction of his finger and sees his phone placed next to Wonwoo’s own. “You need to call your brother before twelve, right?”

Yes. That’s right. It’s Saturday, which means his younger brother will be waiting for Junhui’s call before he heads off to his martial art training. Since their parents divorced a number of years ago and Junhui’s mother packed Junhui’s entire wardrobe alongside hers and moved them both to Seoul, he’s made it a promise to call his brother every week. 

Truth be told, Junhui had grown resentful the first few years, not having the understanding why his mother had to separate him from Fengjun, but as time passed he began to see things from her perspective. It’s hard losing a life partner, on top of that a child. His mother would have taken both of them if she could, but Fengjun was too young, he’d have a hard time adjusting to a new environment. Someone needed to stay to take care of their father, too, give him a reason to go on. Junhui was his mother’s.

They make it work. His parents’ marriage fell apart because they stopped loving each other, but they never stopped loving their children, not for one moment. Every holiday season that rolls in, it’s either Junhui’s turn to fly to China, or Fengjun will come to him and enjoy Seoul cuisine for months at a time. They’re still in each other’s lives despite the distance that separates them for a good part of the year.

Junhui looks up at Wonwoo, heart swelling from the affection he feels rushing through him.

“You charged it for me?”

“Well, I don’t want you to miss the weekly video-call dates.” 

Simple. 

Junhui kisses his cheek, grateful. “I meant it before, you _are_ the best.”

“Mhhm,” Wonwoo tugs the front of his shirt until Junhui’s lips are a hair’s breadth away from his. “I know,” he whispers right before he closes the distance between them.

Wonwoo’s the first to pull away. He pushes him by the shoulders, a playful grin on his face, and tells Junhui not to keep his brother waiting.

That morning, Junhui tells Fengjun about Wonwoo. He’s sitting in the living room when he makes the call, so when his eyes catch sight of the framed pictures perched atop Wonwoo’s drawer, he decides to tell him about Soonyoung and Jihoon, too. The complete package.

* * *

Mingyu places a bottle of some obscure beer Junhui doesn’t remember ordering on the table in front of him. “Bartender said it’s for you, from the girl in cherry wine dress at the bar.”

He looks over at the bar and sure enough, there’s a young lady fitting Mingyu’s description smiling at him, her own glass raised in the air. Junhui picks up the bottle from the table and holds it up, toasting her from across the room. He tips his head politely after taking a gulp, to say _thank you_ , then returns his attention back to Mingyu.

“You’re not going over there?”

That possibility didn’t even cross his mind until Mingyu brings it up, which is saying a lot of things Junhui does not want to analyse right now.

“Nah. I don’t feel like it.”

Mingyu raises a sceptical eyebrow, reminding Junhui that he totally hates how perfectly shaped it is. “I haven’t seen you in action for some time.”

It sounds like a trap, but Junhui is the fool who walks right into it anyway. He squints his eyes at Mingyu, suspicious. “Did Minghao tell you?”

“About what?” Right. So that wasn’t a trap. Junhui’s just exposed himself for nothing. “Oh. Shit! Have you found someone? No way. Hao didn’t spill anything,” Mingyu starts to blabber, the speed of his speech too fast for Junhui’s alcohol-ridden brain to keep up with. 

“Aren’t boyfriends supposed to share gossips, especially if they’re juicy? I’ve been betrayed.”

Minghao returns from his bathroom break right on time. “Who betrayed you?”

“You!” Mingyu huffs. “You didn’t say Jun-hyung’s seeing someone.”

The younger frowns at Junhui, sliding in the booth and taking his rightful place next to Mingyu. “Are you? I didn’t know.”

“No—well, I,” Junhui hesitates, not knowing what the right answer is here. “I don’t know, either.”

“How do you not—” Mingyu cuts off in the middle of his question with a hurt yelp. Judging from the dirty look he’s throwing his boyfriend, Minghao must have elbowed him somewhere. “What? If he’s single, then the girl who gave him that drink is definitely down for a date. Or a fun night, maybe.”

“I can’t.” Junhui hears himself saying. His stupid mouth seems hellbent on giving out more than it should. “Go on a date or sleep with her.”

“Why not?”

“I’ll feel guilty. I know it.” 

Maybe it’s the alcohol talking. It’s definitely the alcohol talking and not the fact that he’s beginning to realise that the way he feels about Wonwoo, about Jihoon, about Soonyoung, none of them are platonic anymore. The reason for his gravitating toward them, it’s no longer purely sexual. If they’re still understanding each other perfectly, continuing with their original arrangement, then there’s no reason for Junhui to hold back sleeping with other people. They’re always safe, protected. It’s all within his rights. 

And yet. 

He knows. He knows it isn’t right. It won’t be right to him… and it won’t be right to them.

Mingyu makes a confused noise, but Minghao just stares at him emphatically. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s okay, gē,” Minghao pats his head once. Junhui brings the beer bottle to his lips and starts downing the content in one go. 

“We’re dropping this, baby,” he hears Minghao tell Mingyu gently. Thankfully, for all his stubbornness, Mingyu drops the topic like hot iron.

* * *

“Hey! You’re here,” Soonyoung chirps happily. The apron he’s wearing reads _kiss the chef_ and God, does Junhui want to, so badly. But Jihoon’s sitting right there on the couch, curled harmlessly next to Wonwoo, and suddenly the bile rises up from his stomach all the way to his throat.

He can’t. Kisses are restricted for when they’re wrestling in bed, maximum of two articles of clothing left between the four of them—usually they’re Wonwoo’s sleep socks that never seemed to detach from his cold feet no matter how heated things get between the four of them. 

It’s not for when he comes into Wonwoo’s apartment on a Thursday night, having been invited to dinner by Jihoon in a grumpy and borderline demanding text.

“The food’s about ready. I’m just finishing the sauce.”

His stomach churns from the sight of the dining table in front of him, but he can tell it’s not from hunger. Soonyoung had Wonwoo whipped out his fanciest tablecloth. There are wine glasses on the table that Junhui’s never seen before—they look more expensive than anything he has in his wardrobe. He’s not sure if they’re Wonwoo’s or if Soonyoung brought them over from his place. 

All of Junhui’s senses are going into overdrive. “What’s… all this?”

“Carbonara! You like it, right?” _I like you,_ Junhui thinks stupidly. 

“Yeah, but it’s a little much.”

_Please stop, before you say something you’ll regret._

Soonyoung, though, doesn’t seem to detect the hostile edge to his words. “Okay, then just take the plate with the least amount of pasta, silly.”

“I mean.” Junhui’s insides are crumbling like paper. “You’re putting way too much effort into this. It’s not like this is a date.”

Yup. There it is. As soon as the words come out of him, Junhui knows much in the wrong he is. Months of putting his feelings aside has finally caught up to him and it just feels so bitter. _He’s_ bitter, which is such an ugly feeling he should have never taken out on anyone. Much less Soonyoung, who’s never been anything but his best self to Junhui.

“Ah,” Soonyoung settles the pot with the sauce in it on top of the table. Junhui hears something moving behind him, surely Jihoon and Wonwoo coming to the rescue. “You know what? I forgot the parmesan.” The tone of his voice is off, the pitch a whole octave higher than his usual speaking register. 

Soonyoung barely looks at any of them as he paces back and forth in the kitchen, quickly trying to get the apron off. The second he manages to do so, he’s out through the door without another word. Junhui watches him go before turning towards the other men still in the room.

“So… who’s going to tell him the parmesan’s there?” he points at the green bottle on top of the dining table.

Instead of answering him, Jihoon strides across the room to him and spats, “You’re a fucking coward,” at his face before he too leaves the apartment. 

Junhui blinks twice to readjust to reality after being harshly cursed out by a man he thinks he’s in love with and looks across the apartment at Wonwoo, bracing himself for a third and final heartbreak. There’s a smile on Wonwoo’s face, a _sad_ smile Junhui’s put there. 

“Alright, your turn. Come at me.” He lifts his head high.

Wonwoo just shakes his head and walks toward him in a less angry manner than Jihoon had. His hand comes up to gently cup Junhui’s face, a soft gesture that makes him want to lean into the touch, but he knows he has absolutely no right to. Never has, probably never will.

“Lock the door before you go,” Wonwoo tells him, tapping Junhui’s cheek with his index finger once. 

Junhui wants to yell at him, tell him how big of a hypocrite he is that he’s telling Junhui to lock the stupid door, when his inability to do so is the main cause of Junhui’s undoing in the first place. 

“And eat the fettuccine, Soonyoung made it with too much love for you not to.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have risen from a mountain of schoolwork to finish this fic
> 
> warning: explicit sexual content, though hinted heavily beforehand so skippable if you're not into that!

Junhui’s studying in the third level of the Science library when Jihoon materialises out of thin air and takes the empty seat to his left. “You know, you truly are an asshole.”

Irritated by the unnecessary provocation, Junhui refuses to give into Jihoon’s attack this time around. “That’s rich coming from you, bastard supreme himself.” 

Jihoon probably doesn’t actually deserve that, since Junhui knows he’s just doing this out of loyalty for Soonyoung, but it still hurts. It hurts that he thinks it’s okay to corner Junhui and cuss him out like this. He’s purposefully _hurting_ Junhui and he doesn’t even care.

“What, _you’re_ pissed at _me_ now?” Jihoon challenges, anger building up steadily inside him.

“What did you expect when you came here and started calling me names? That I’d just lie down and take it?”

Junhui knows that's _exactly_ what Jihoon expected when he went looking for him. He planned on pushing Junhui's buttons just right to get him to crawl all the way to Soonyoung and ask for his forgiveness, because that's what Jihoon thinks Junhui should do. And it's upsetting, the way Junhui can't even deny that Jihoon has that power over him. 

The grin that appears on Jihoon’s face upon hearing his question is a little too mean for Junhui’s liking. 

“You’ve done that plenty before, lie down and take it from me.”

At Jihoon’s cruel remark, Junhui stands up so fast his chair hits the ground with a loud clatter. Before he knows it, he has a fistful of Jihoon’s collar and the younger man shoved against the nearest wall, helpless under his tight grip. Junhui can’t tell if the flush on Jihoon’s cheeks came from embarrassment or something else entirely, but at the moment they’re both breathing hard. Jihoon’s every exhale sounds booming in his ears, everything else in his surrounding melts into the background. 

Only Jihoon comes into focus.

Jihoon, who grabs the base of his skull, a little rough, then yanks Junhui until he falls into him, crashing their lips together. Junhui immediately has the urge to _fight_. He wants to push Jihoon away and run to the other side of the world when he doesn’t have to feel like he’s committing a deadly sin every time they kiss. The kiss is as feisty as Jihoon is—Junhui tastes a tang of blood when Jihoon bites on his lower lip hard enough to pierce skin. Just as brutally as he attacks him, Jihoon’s subsequent ministrations feel almost like a wordless apology. He runs his tongue over the bite mark again and again, soothing, until Junhui forgets that they were literally about to throw hands at each other. 

When they part, there’s a smear of red at the corner of Jihoon’s mouth that he promptly licks away.

“Come find us when you’re ready,” says Jihoon, a second before he disappears from Junhui’s sight completely. 

Helplessly, Junhui slides down against the wall and closes his eyes to regulate his wild heartbeat. He has to stop himself from texting Wonwoo to come pick him up because he can't stand straight after what Jihoon did. 

* * *

Jihoon really does leave him alone after that day. The absence of texts from Wonwoo probably means Jihoon got him to back off, too. 

Soonyoung? It’s not like Junhui’s expecting him to reach out first. He’s the one who messed up, so he’ll have to come begging for Soonyoung’s forgiveness. He makes up his mind on Friday, thinks that he’ll write down what he wants to say to Soonyoung tonight and asks to meet him tomorrow, but apparently life has other plans for him.

As Junhui climbs up the last flight of stairs, he sees the back profiles of the people he’s been missing all week right outside the door to his place and immediately feels weak at the knees. His eyes meet Jihoon’s first, and he glares at the younger, hard. 

_You liar. You said you were gonna give me time. I’m not ready._

Jihoon just rolls his eyes and tips his head in Soonyoung’s direction. Junhui knows what it means. 

_Soonyoung needs to make sure you’re alive and eating properly, so here we are._

“Hey,” Junhui greets them. 

Soonyoung turns to him. There’s a yellow Pororo bandaid plastered on his nose—it makes him look damn soft and adorable. “You look like shit.” He says, and for the first time since Junhui's shook his hand in Wonwoo's foyer, he means it in a mean way.

Junhui looks down at what he’s wearing. The plaid probably belongs Jihoon for all he knows, so he gets why Soonyoung thinks it’s horrible, but other than that? He looks like he’s holding himself together despite how downright awful he’s been feeling all week. At least give him credit for that.

“Well, sorry I’m not dressed appropriately for an intervention.”

“This isn’t—” Wonwoo begins hastily, already trying to pacify the situation. “Can we not do this outside?”

He shrugs. “My room’s a mess.” He doesn’t need Soonyoung to give him a lecture on that, too.

“Okay, my place, then.” Wonwoo takes a tentative step toward him, pleading with his eyes. That’s practically cheating—Junhui’s never learned to say no to him with that look on his face. “Please, Junnie?”

Without waiting for Junhui’s answer, Jihoon pushes himself away from the wall and walks past the three of them inside Wonwoo’s apartment. Soonyoung follows closely in his footsteps, not sparing Junhui a second glance. Wonwoo, on the other hand, waits for Junhui before he goes toward the door himself, as if afraid he’ll make the run for it otherwise.

Jihoon’s already sitting cross-legged on the couch when he walks in, Soonyoung standing on the opposite side of the room with his arms crossed over his chest. A defensive posture if Junhui knows it. He chooses the less hostile sparring partner and takes the empty space next to Jihoon. 

“What happened to your nose?” Junhui asks, when it becomes evident no one else wants to start the conversation.

“I hit a wall,” Soonyoung answers him, curt. “That’s hardly the point here.”

“What is, then?”

“I think you owe me an apology.” Soonyoung’s right foot is tapping anxiously against the floor, a dead give-away that he’s just as nervous as the rest of them despite his cold-cut demands.

“Yeah,” says Junhui. “I do.”

Clearly, Soonyoung wasn’t expecting that. In his surprise, his hands drop to his sides and Junhui takes that as a cue to carry on while his words are still welcomed.

“I’m sorry,” he tells Soonyoung, his heart worn on his sleeve. “You were doing something nice for me, for us. I ruined it by being a jerk, there’s no excuse for that. If you let me have another chance, I’ll make it up to you.”

There’s silence for a moment, then Soonyoung straightens his back. Junhui knows, just from looking at him, that he’s forgiven. “Well… that was unexpectedly easy.”

“Because the fight’s stupid to begin with,” Jihoon pipes in next to him.

Junhui shoots him a quick glance and runs his tongue over his bottom lip to trace over the mark that Jihoon’s bite left. 

Somehow, it gives him the courage to feel the slight indentation that remains there, so he turns to Soonyoung and says, “The fettuccine _was_ overcooked, though.”

There’s a flare of annoyance in Soonyoung’s eyes. “I’m going to end you, you little ingrate.” He strides across the room with his fist held up high, throwing it at Junhui once he reaches where the other’s sitting. Junhui just catches his hand easily and laces their fingers together.

He squeezes Soonyoung’s hand in his, once, and that successfully eliminates any protests the younger might have had. Soonyoung looks down to watch their joined hands intently but doesn't pull away from him. He lets Junhui caress the back of his hand with a roaming thumb, which makes Junhui’s heart soar right up to the stratosphere. 

“What do you guys think if I… want in?”

“In on what?” asks Wonwoo, confused.

Fair enough. The question was a little on the vague side of things.

“Your relationship,” he clarifies. “I mean, obviously, I don’t know how it works. Never had a proper boyfriend, much less two at a time.” 

He looks between Soonyoung and Wonwoo, then Jihoon clears his throat pointedly. “Or three,” he corrects quickly.

Junhui dates, sure. With a face like his, he’ll be a fool not to experience the joys of courtship while he’s still wrinkle-free. But he finds that his soul is always restless, moving on from one harbour to the next, never finding peace in the arms of his partners. So Junhui breaks it off before it has the chance to become serious. Always clean and without a fuss, then he continues on his path. 

None of his relationships has ever given him heartbreaks until he met Wonwoo. Until he slept with Wonwoo _and_ Soonyoung _and_ Jihoon.

“I haven’t had two boyfriends at the same time either, though?” It’s Soonyoung speaking this time.He takes a couple of steps back, away from Junhui who mourns the loss of contact and proximity. “Wait, now that I think about it, I haven’t had a proper one at all.”

“Say what now?” Junhui is bewildered. The surprise grows with the smirk blossoming across Jihoon’s features. It’s a mixture of victorious and smug, which makes Junhui think he’s missing something big and obvious here. “But you and Jihoon…”

Frowning, Soonyoung looks over at Jihoon. “Ji, are we boyfriends?”

Jihoon shrugs lightly, as if he’s not sending Junhui into cardiac arrest. “Not officially, no.”

“B-b-but, but you guys,” Junhui stammers, suddenly feeling lost and out of his element. He turns to Wonwoo. “Are you dating anyone in this room at all?” he asks him, straight to the point.

“No,” Wonwoo tells him. “But I want to.” He looks back at Junhui and his eyes are so damn convincing. Wonwoo gazes at Soonyoung after, gives him a nervous smile. “I want to so much.” 

Ah. Hold up. What the fuck?

“He thought the three of us were dating each other,” Jihoon explains, seeing as he’s the only person who’s figured Junhui out completely. “That’s why he tiptoed around us so much, because he didn’t want to upset the balance or something equally as stupid.”

"Without you?" Wonwoo's eyebrows are knitted together. 

He asks the question like he's never considered the possibility, like it hadn't even existed before Junhui brought it up, like if they ever do jump into a relationship together it would, without a single speck of doubt, include Junhui.  Junhui opens his mouth to reply, but Soonyoung cuts him off.

“Hold up. How are _we_ ,” Soonyoung uses his hand to throw wild gestures around at Wonwoo, Jihoon and himself, “dating? They took turns fucking you in front of me last week!”

“Okay, open relationships exist, but you two literally live together,” Junhui points out, still unable to let go of the fact that he’s based all of his actions from the beginning of their arrangement off a brazen assumption that’s not even close to being correct. 

If only he had asked, things would have turned out much better. 

“We’re roommates. What about Wonwoo? He doesn’t live with us.”

“Wonwoo’s a cat,” says Junhui. Somewhere to his left, Wonwoo makes a small offended noise. “He needs his private space, I don’t know.”

“Right, so?” Soonyoung demands stubbornly. “You practically live here. Before this week, when’s the last time you slept at your own place?”

Junhui finds himself at a loss for words this time, because Soonyoung is horrifyingly right. He doesn’t have a good counterargument, he doesn’t have a counterargument _at all_. He just sits there for a minute, opening and closing his mouth over and over again. Thank God for Jihoon who comes to his rescue.

“Soonyoungie, why’d you make us food all the time?” 

A sharp look is cast in Jihoon’s direction. “What?”

“The food,” Wonwoo fills in for Jihoon. “What’s that for?”

“You guys always forget to eat! Are you seriously complaining right now?”

It’s the answer Jihoon seems to be expecting, because he’s quick to refute with, “Do you make Seokmin food?”

“Why would I? He’s a grown-ass man, he can—” Soonyoung stops, eyes widening comically as he realises what he’s just said and the implications of it. 

Junhui feels like he’s sucked into a romantic comedy series. This is obviously the big comedy part of it.

“Oh my God,” Soonyoung covers his mouth with both hands, looking the most shell-shocked Junhui has ever seen anyone. “I’m in love with you idiots.”

“ _I’m in love with you idiots_ , he says, after he made lunch boxes and used ketchup to draw hearts on top of the omelette every day for two consecutive weeks.” Wonwoo slaps a tired hand across his face. 

“What about you?” Junhui asks Jihoon, who’s now leaning back into the couch comfortably, hugging one of Wonwoo’s velvet cushions. He’s clearly the person who’s the least shaken by the turn of events. 

Jihoon throws the question back to him. “What about me?” 

“How do you feel about…?” Can he even say _us_?

“Damn, Wen Junhui.” He bristles, slightly offended by Junhui’s inquiry. “You think I drive you around town looking for copper tubbing for fun? Put up with Soonyoung stealing the precious cola _that I bought_ , from the fridge _that I bought_ , because I’m a good roommate? Let Wonwoo annihilate me at Mario Kart even though I’m the most cutthroat asshole you’ve ever met for no good reason?”

All of Junhui’s fears, his insecurities, his doubts… they begin to melt out of him upon hearing Jihoon’s words.

“If there’s anyone who fell first, it was me.”

Wonwoo laughs then, a sound that immediately perks Jihoon’s ears. Junhui turns toward the source of the sound and sees Wonwoo’s nose scrunching the way it always does when he’s unable to contain his happiness. 

“Bullshit. It was me.”

“It’s not a competition,” Soonyoung interjects with, ironically, a competitive edge to his voice. “But clearly it was me! I just didn’t know it.”

“Then it doesn’t count, babe,” Jihoon answers immediately.

“ _‘Babe’_?”

“Yup,” he nods in confirmation. Junhui wishes he’d had Jihoon’s confidence right off the bat. Things would have been easier that way. “Complaints?”

“None,” says Soonyoung, sheepish. 

“Why didn’t you say anything, if you knew?” 

He’s asking both Wonwoo and Jihoon, though Wonwoo is the first one to give him a reply. “I was looking for the right moment, I guess.” 

Junhui looks over to Jihoon, waiting. “What? From my perspective, the only oblivious person was Soonyoung, and he’d come around eventually. We were good, we were happy. I didn’t think I had to say anything.”

A pause.

“Which, admittedly, was a fault on my part.” 

Junhui’s jaw drops to the floor for real this time. He’s glad to find that he’s not the only one taken aback. Wonwoo looks positively aghast like Jihoon just suggested they go out and terrorise a litter of innocent kittens, while Soonyoung has resorted to leaning against the wall for support and gaping at Jihoon. 

“Come on,” Jihoon rolls his eyes. “You make me look so bad. I own up to my mistakes.”

“Since when?” Wonwoo asks, automatic.

“Just now,” the younger bites back, raising his chin in defiance. 

Wonwoo just shakes his head fondly at that, so Jihoon turns to Junhui once again. “Should’ve sat you all down and have a proper conversation about it.” 

No one says anything for a moment, revelling in the bliss of having their miscommunication sorted out. 

Jihoon is the first one to break the quiet, _again_ , and Junhui admires his bravery so much. “We’re here now, so what’s the verdict?”

“I wanna do this,” Soonyoung decides, lips pulled into a determined line. “If you guys want it too.”

“I already said I want in,” Junhui pipes in, quiet. His heart beats against his ribcage in anticipation. 

Wonwoo nods. “Me too.”

“Great. Celebratory sex?”

Junhui chucks a cushion right at Jihoon’s face for his cheeky remark. Jihoon forgives him easily when he scoots closer afterwards, kissing Jihoon all over in order to soothe the pain from the attack, which Junhui imagines isn’t much to begin with. 

He feels Soonyoung coming up from behind him, arms circling Junhui’s waist as he presses his mouth to the back of his neck. Wonwoo’s hand come up to his shoulder, resting there while he’s kissing Jihoon full on the mouth. Together, they stumble their way into Wonwoo’s bedroom, clothes flying off in all directions in the process. Junhui has to dodge someone’s jeans coming at him which almost blinded him completely.

“What are you doing?” Soonyoung asks Jihoon. He’s still wiggling out of his pants, ass exposed but legs still covered for the most part, while Jihoon’s already naked and made himself comfortable on Wonwoo’s bed. 

Ah, so that was Jihoon’s pants that almost maimed him. 

“What does it look like?” 

Junhui notices the bottle of lube that lies next to Jihoon’s hip, the cap already opened. 

“Like your fingers are in the wrong hole. They should be in mine.” Soonyoung juts his bottom lip out as he whines to Jihoon. From the corner of his eyes, Junhui sees Wonwoo moving in to grab Jihoon’s wrist and lead him to where Soonyoung wants it. Junhui reaches out to Wonwoo first, holding the other man in place.

“Don’t be lazy, Soonyoung,” Jihoon drawls out, voice rough. 

He's using his bedroom voice, Junhui realises a second late. The one he uses to tell Junhui to get on all fours. The same one he uses to call on Wonwoo when he wants to fuck his mouth. 

“I also need to prepare myself if I’m gonna bottom tonight.”

Soonyoung giggles like it’s an absurd scenario, though he stops as soon as he sees the open, honest look on Jihoon’s face. “Fuck.” The curse comes out in a shaky exhale. “Jihoonie.”

“Yeah?” Jihoon closes his eyes, fingers moving in and out of him in an established rhythm. Junhui smiles to himself when he sees him biting his bottom lip. Right corner. 

Wonwoo kisses Junhui’s temple once, then tugs him toward the bed. He throws himself next to Jihoon, peppering the youngest's face with open-mouthed kisses. “Who do you want, baby?”

“Don’t care. Rock paper scissors it between you,” he grunts, eyes still shut.

The happy laugh that’s been bubbling inside Junhui finally sets itself free of its restraints. “Holy shit, we’re _not_ playing rock paper scissors for your anal virginity in this relationship.” He hunches over the edge of the bed, leaning on it as he shrugs off his pants, just in case he loses his balance from seeing JIhoon's all spread out like this. “It should at least be some kind of tournament game.”

Jihoon huffs at that, snappy. “Fine, then I want Junhui.”

He feels Wonwoo and Soonyoung’s eyes at him, the same serene expectation in their gazes. 

“Your wish is my command, my liege.”

“Shut up,” Jihoon barks, though there’s no heat to it.

Junhui takes the rest of his clothes off one article at a time, letting Jihoon ease himself into it before he replaces Jihoon’s fingers with one of his own. Soonyoung’s kissing Jihoon deeply as Junhui pushes a second finger inside to scissor him open, Wonwoo tracing his fingers over his boyfriends’ bare skin, contented with acting as an audience for the moment.

When Junhui rubs at a particular spot, Jihoon's back arches off the bed, his pleased moans directly swallowed by Soonyoung. The muffled sounds seem to wake something inside Wonwoo, who begins to kiss up Soonyoung’s neck to the underside of his jaw, biting lightly at his outer earlobe, tongue sneaking out of his mouth to play with Soonyoung’s piercings. 

Soonyoung, evidently having had enough of the teasing, climbs on top of Wonwoo until he’s properly straddling Wonwoo’s lap, the man beneath him looking up to meet his eyes in anticipation. There’s awe in Wonwoo’s eyes, the origin of which Junhui understands perfectly. Soonyoung’s so beautiful like this, all of his curves paraded in a smug display, movements fluid like he’s dancing—a private performance reserved for them only. No one else gets to see him this way and Junhui's one lucky bastard for it.

Not wanting Jihoon to feel neglected, Junhui takes over Soonyoung’s job and starts kissing him. His tongue slips inside Jihoon’s mouth, gently massaging Jihoon’s own; he matches the delivery of his kisses with the rhythm of his fingers moving in and out of Jihoon. Junhui continues his ministrations until Jihoon’s hips start stuttering from the gratification.

“Junhui,” Jihoon’s saccharine voice wafts through the air.

“Yes?”

“Sorry I was mean to you,” he offers, bashful and sincere at the same time. A combination only Lee Jihoon can pull off flawlessly.

Junhui leans down slowly, pressing a sweet kiss onto his forehead. “You’re forgiven.”

“Thank you. I trust you, okay?”

“Okay, Jihoonie.”

He moves to line the head of his cock against Jihoon’s entrance, the younger shuddering when he feels the contact being made. Junhui lubes himself up over the condom, squirting a dollop onto his hand before smoothening his palm over his entire length, stroking up and down to distribute it evenly. Jihoon waits, uncharacteristically patient for someone who’s usually mouthy in bed, and when Junhui quickly steals a glance up at him, he finds Jihoon biting his lip.

Still bottom right corner. 

Soonyoung takes Jihoon’s hand in his as he himself sinks onto Wonwoo, who lets out a groan that makes Junhui thinks Jihoon isn’t the only animal present in the room, but he decides to keep his comments for later. 

For now: Jihoon. 

He spreads Jihoon’s thighs, careful, then rests his hands on Jihoon’s hips as he guides himself inside Jihoon. All the way in, slowly, until he bottoms out. 

Jihoon goes completely still, his abdominal muscles twitching from the tension.

“Uncomfortable?” asks Soonyoung, so much tenderness dripping from his voice. 

He stops grinding down on Wonwoo for a moment to reach over and push Jihoon’s hair back, exposing his forehead. Wonwoo, on the other hand, is rubbing soothing circles onto Soonyoung’s hips with his thumbs, but his head on the pillow is turned toward the youngest of the four.

Junhui follows Wonwoo’s lead and starts massaging Jihoon’s hips, too. “Wanna stop?”

“No way in hell,” he shuts Junhui down instantly, catching Soonyoung’s hand in his. “Just give me a second.” 

They all wait for him together until Jihoon gives Junhui the green light. Soonyoung starts rolling his hips in circles again, making Wonwoo close his eyes on instinct. His left hand remains interlocked with Jihoon’s the entire time, while his right one holds Wonwoo by the shoulder for support.

Junhui moves. 

He pulls back until only his tip is prodding Jihoon’s entrance open before he pushes his way back in again. Little by little, he establishes a sensual pace, one that has him moving back and forth in tandem with Jihoon’s breathing. The only response Jihoon gives him is to wrap his legs behind Junhui’s ass. He doesn’t tell him to go faster or slower, doesn’t seem to vocalise _anything_ for that matter and Junhui remembers what he said that night in Jihoon’s car, all those months ago, over stroke-inducing burgers and fattening milkshakes. 

_You can’t stop when I think I want you to._

Junhui had stubbornly insisted that he can—so now he must keep that promise. No matter how hot Jihoon’s insides are clenching around him, how tight and _incredible_ he feels, Junhui keeps his concentration intact and pays attention to Jihoon’s facial expressions.

Junhui watches the tension builds up in Jihoon, a hot flare from his belly down to his twitching cock. He tries to wrap a hand around Jihoon’s dick, but Jihoon slaps his hand away and tells him to just keep doing what he’s doing. Dizzy, Junhui thinks he will legitimately start crying if he succeeds in makes Jihoon comes without touching him.

“Oh—” Jihoon says suddenly. He stops himself from saying more by biting down harder on his lower lip and Junhui’s afraid he’s going to draw blood soon at the rate he’s going. To prevent that from happening, Junhui swoops down to kiss him, hard, and Jihoon comes just like that, panting hotly into Junhui’s mouth. “Oh my _God_.” 

Feeling like he’s fulfilled his duty, Junhui lets go of himself and floods Jihoon’s insides with warmth. The younger gasps openly, sensitive from the stimulation. Junhui angles his subsequent thrusts at Jihoon's sweet spot, over and over again—

“Junhui, you’re _pulsing_ in me.” 

He tilts his head back into the pillow, exposing the column of his neck that’s begging for Junhui to nose along. 

“Fuuuuuck.”

Jihoon doesn’t say it like it’s a bad thing, but Junhui figures it won’t do him any good to be overwhelmed tonight. So he slows the roll of his hips until they come into a complete stop and he pulls out of Jihoon. 

Junhui moves away for a bit to dispose of the condom, and when he comes back, Jihoon’s resorted to biting lightly across Soonyoung’s knuckles. Soonyoung doesn’t seem to be bothered by it, still occupied with trying to get both him and Wonwoo across the finish line.

“Jihoon,” Junhui calls gently. 

He reaches out to touch Jihoon’s face, but the younger man avoids his hand. 

“If you touch me in any kind of way, I’ll come again.” Jihoon’s tone is stern, leaving no room for Junhui to argue with him. “Like, I will seriously pass out. Don’t touch me. Fuck, I can’t believe I came so hard your stupid face disappeared.”

He rolls away from Junhui, who finds himself at a loss of what to do next. “Take care of the tiger pup.” Jihoon slowly detaches his hand from Soonyoung’s, who immediately fists the bedsheet upon the loss of his grip on Jihoon. “I’ll join you in a sec.”

Junhui nods at him, albeit still unsure that he should leave Jihoon alone at this moment. It’s not until Jihoon’s shy smile comes into display that he feels his heart settling in its place again. Encouraged by the gesture, Junhui crawls next to Soonyoung and drops a soft kiss on his flushed cheek. 

“How’d you hit a wall, Soonyoungie?” he asks, a mere prologue. “Please be careful next time.”

Soonyoung throws him a dirty look. “Can’t believe you’re scolding me while we’re having sex. I hit a wall because I was too busy thinking about you, so technically it’s your—” his sentence’s cut off when Wonwoo lifts Soonyoung’s body up with hands on his waist then slams it back down on his dick. The sound of flesh meeting rings loud and clear in Junhui’s ears.

“ _Wonwoo_ ,” Soonyoung’s breath hitches. “Right. _There_.”

Knowing Wonwoo, he probably rubbed perfectly against Soonyoung’s prostate just now. He’s always had scary accuracy from the beginning. Wonwoo never goes hard when they have sex, because he simply doesn’t need to. He carries out the act like an art he’s mastered each and every technique of, approaches his partner with blinding grace before he renders them useless at his feet. 

“Too much talking.”

Wonwoo sounds a little annoyed, but that’s probably because he’s right on the edge and instead of making him orgasm, Soonyoung and Junhui are making _conversations_ with each other. Wanting to make it up to his boyfriend, Junhui straddles one of Wonwoo’s legs but tries not to rest his entire weight on in—Soonyoung’s heavy enough, all that muscle mass and whatnot. 

He grins when he feels Wonwoo jolting as his cock comes to rest on top of Wonwoo’s thigh. That’s the reaction he wanted. Nothing more, nothing less. Just perfectly as is.

“I’ll take responsibility for your nose,” Junhui says, kissing Soonyoung’s jaw from behind him, hand reaching down to thumb over his slit.

Soonyoung turns his head to kiss Junhui properly. “You better,” he whispers against Junhui’s lips when they part, before he lets his body fall forward, resting his forehead on Wonwoo’s shoulder. 

It’s not hard to tell that Soonyoung is facing a dilemma from the way he’s trying to do two things at once. One: bucking up into Junhui’s fist, matching his movements with Junhui’s languid strokes. Two: fucking down onto Wonwoo, burying his cock as deep within him as he could.

Jihoon comes to join them just in time, just as he said he would. Soon enough, he’s got his mouth sucking on Wonwoo’s neck and two fingers trapping Soonyoung’s nipple in between them, rubbing delicious friction. 

_Teamwork_ , Junhui thinks deliriously, a mere second before Soonyoung comes with an unrestrained shout. That’s another noise complaint under Wonwoo’s belt for sure. Looking at the bright side of things, at least Junhui’s the one neighbour they know won’t file a report to their landlord. Junhui might write a letter of _compliment_ if anything.

Junhui looks over Soonyoung’s shoulder and finds the mess he’s made over Wonwoo’s stomach and chest. 

Jihoon doesn’t escape unscathed, either. He gets some on his cheek, but he just wipes his thumb across and looks at the result, completely unbothered. 

Well, that’s certainly something. 

It only truly surprises Junhui when he proceeds to smear Soonyoung’s come over his tongue like it’s nothing. Swallowing when someone comes inside your mouth is one thing, but this… hits differently.

Soonyoung’s the first out of the other three to react. _Positively_ , Junhui might add. That must be something Soonyoung’s into, because he quickly moves from Wonwoo’s lap despite his thighs still trembling, just to be able to kiss Jihoon senseless, as if wanting to taste himself on Jihoon’s mouth.

Junhui just smiles at the two wrestling around in bed; clearly they have more stamina than him. More stamina than Wonwoo too, it seems. Instead of joining in the commotion, Wonwoo merely lifts an index finger and curls it toward himself, signalling Junhui to come closer. Junhui does, but not without kissing the inner part of Wonwoo’s thighs. He kisses around the base of his dick and rolls the condom off of him—it’s better to take it off when Wonwoo’s still hard, anyway—then he ties it up and throws it across the room right into the trashcan. 

Right now, he can’t be bothered to be separated from Wonwoo. 

Wonwoo watches him and laughs a little, hiding his gorgeous face in his hands to cover his embarrassment at Junhui’s act of worship. Junhui kisses up his happy trail, kisses his chest, stopping there to feel the thrum of Wonwoo’s heart beneath his lips. He kisses Wonwoo’s collarbone, his neck, his jaw. Finally, Junhui kisses the back of his hands before he pulls them away, uncovering Wonwoo’s face.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you there,” he says, playful. He’s repeating the first words he’s ever said to Wonwoo, and by the recognition that flashes in Wonwoo’s eyes, he remembers them, too.

“It’s okay. I’m Wonwoo, your neighbour.”

It’s as simple as Wonwoo continuing the game and his retention of how their first meeting went like, that confirms to Junhui everything he already knows anyway. He’s in love. He’s so deep in this love and how delightful it is to know that it’s reciprocated.

“Thought you’re my boyfriend,” Junhui replies, cheeky. 

He can say that now. Gets him giddy just thinking about it.

“A man can be both.”

Wonwoo brushes their noses together before he kisses Junhui, thorough and sweet and kind of perfect.

* * *

A full month after, when Junhui comes into Wonwoo’s apartment late after finishing yet another project, he finds the three sources of his happiness all cuddled up in bed. All warm and fuzzy and safe. His facial muscles involuntarily tug the corners of his mouth upward at the sight and Junhui closes the door again. He needs to eat before he joins them in bed or he’ll wake up sick tomorrow. All of Soonyoung’s talk about taking care of himself properly has finally gotten to him—a couple of months ago Junhui would’ve just gone to bed without eating dinner if he feels tired.

He walks away from the door, careful not to step too loudly that he’ll wake Wonwoo up since he’s the lightest sleeper amongst them. 

That’s when he notices something out of place. Something that wasn’t there the last time he was in this apartment. Well, technically, two things. Stopping dead in his tracks, Junhui stares the new pictures placed above Wonwoo’s drawer. 

There’s one of him and Wonwoo, taken by Jihoon the night they went to one of Soonyoung’s dance competitions, long before the term _boyfriends_ became official. It’s a candid shot of Wonwoo resting his head on Junhui’s shoulders with his eyes closed, looking tranquil and just… beautiful. Junhui is angling his face down to look at him. 

Oh, hell. He can get full just by looking at this picture for an extended amount of time.

The other one was taken a few hours after, now a replacement to the previous photo of the trio, placed inside the same frame that used to hold the old picture. In this one, they’re all crowding one booth at the greasy burger place he and Jihoon went to after they spent the night building a cooling tower. He remembers they were there to celebrate Soonyoung’s win. This time, the photograph’s taken by Soonyoung, evident from the angle and how his face covers most of the shot. Junhui’s looking at the camera and so is Soonyoung, but Jihoon’s eyes are on Junhui’s features, while Wonwoo’s focus on Soonyoung instead. 

Jihoon’s face is partially covered with his bucket hat, as always, but when Junhui steps closer he can see the tiny but unmistakable quirk on his lips. Wonwoo, on the other hand, has a full-blown grin, complete with unwavering pride across his features as he looks at the winner of that night’s competition. The amount of tenderness that shines through the simple snapshot is overwhelming for him.

Junhui traces the glass cover, fingers hovering over Soonyoung’s a thousand-megawatt smile. He’s so in love with the picture that he doesn’t realise the door to the bedroom opens once again until there’s solid warmth pressing against his entire back.

Soonyoung’s arms circle around his waist, chin resting on Junhui’s shoulder. “Thought that was you.”

“Sorry I woke you up.” Junhui leans back into him and Soonyoung’s arms tighten, pulling him close.

He feels more than sees Soonyoung shaking his head. “Was waiting for you, anyway. You’re gonna eat first?”

Junhui turns in his hold, taking Soonyoung’s handsome face in his hands. “Yeah. Go back to bed, I’ll come soon.”

“Can’t I accompany you?” he asks with a small pout on his very much kissable lips. Even though Soonyoung follows the question by rubbing at his eyes tiredly, Junhui truly doesn’t have in him to refuse his boyfriend.

Whipped ass bitch, Jihoon would say, like he isn’t one himself.

“You sure you don’t want to sleep first?”

Soonyoung shakes his head again. “It’s much better when you’re in bed with us.”

What rebuttal can Junhui possibly come up with to that? The correct answer is none. He tips Soonyoung’s face up to kiss him softly, then leads the younger to sit next to him at the dining table. 

Junhui ends up sleeping with half of his body hanging from the side of the bed because Jihoon chooses to spread like a starfish in Soonyoung’s absence. All the complaints wash away naturally when he wakes up the next morning in the middle with Wonwoo’s face tucked into his neck, Jihoon’s leg over his stomach, and the smell of the coffee Soonyoung’s already brewing wafting from the kitchen through the slightly ajar bedroom door.

_Oh._ Junhui finally finds the answer to his question from long ago, along with a haven for his soul to reside. Permanently, he hopes. 

_So this is how it works._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 and then junhui's mom goes on to make red bracelets for the three souls who's made her son happy <3
> 
> thank you for those who went through this journey with me! this piece was something... different than what I usually write, at least it felt that way to me.
> 
> [twt](http://twitter.com/_bloominsummer)

**Author's Note:**

> [come scream with me](https://twitter.com/_bloominsummer) (not at me, please, i am fragile)


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